


Cherry Lips

by Aya_Chi007



Category: Big Bang (Band), Block B, Epik High, Jay Park (Musician)
Genre: M/M, and underground jiho, cause why not, dysfunctional jaeco ahead, plus some GTOP, with pretty jaediva
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4568166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aya_Chi007/pseuds/Aya_Chi007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just like every weekend, Jaehyo gets dolled up to go to his boyfriend's underground performance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Lips

Jaehyo smirks to himself as he runs the tip of the eyeliner pencil through the flame of the shiny turquoise Zippo his boyfriend got him. He prefers old-school eyeliner, pencil sharpeners and all. Oil sticks are too simple, liquid’s messy, and gel just doesn’t do anything for him. The fire, letting it cool, the slight heat against his eyelid as he begins to apply it…. he finds it oddly satisfying.

Once he finishes, he wastes no time batting his eyelashes. His eyeliner is flawless, framing his beautiful eyes perfectly. He’s so gorgeous. He bites his lip and winks at his reflection. He laughs before swiping a bit of cherry lip gloss across his lips. Jiho better fucking appreciate this. He knows his boyfriend, knows he likes his lips all red and shiny (preferably from having his dick between them). If the makeup isn’t good enough for him, he can just get Jaehyo on his knees after he’s done performing.

He ignores the ringing of his cell in favor of snatching Jiho's favorite beanie (the one with the skull with the heart eyes) from the post of the bed frame. Carefully, he pulls it on, appreciating the way it covers his roots. He really needs to dye his hair again. His phone stops for a moment and he takes the moment of silence to brush his long, bleach blond locks back from his face.

With a roll of his eyes, he answers his phone as it starts again. “Hello?”

“Where the fuck are you?” Jiho demands in lieu of a greeting, “Show starts in like ten minutes.”

“Yes, and they always put all the shitty newbies first.” Jaehyo answers. He picks up his Zippo, the black ‘Z’ on it glinting as he slides it into the pocket of his leather pants. “You’re out of that league, babe, I can afford to be late.”

Jiho mutters something under his breath, probably cursing Jaehyo for even implying he used to be a shitty rapper. Jaehyo doesn’t know, he’s not listening. He’s too busy pulling on his boots, just muttering little ‘uh-huh’s and ‘sure, babe’s to keep Jiho satisfied. It wouldn’t be his first time faking. Not that Jiho needs to know.

"Calm your dick, I'll be there by intermission, alright?" Jaehyo finally cuts him off as he slides on his ring, appreciating the way the sapphire shines, complimenting the matte color of his black nails. He admires his reflection: tight pants; fishnet shirt; studded belt, wristbands, and choker; blond hair beneath a beanie; and, of course, his perfect eyeliner and glossy lips. God, he's so fucking gorgeous, Jiho is so lucky. "Love you, bitch."

"Uh-huh, love you too," Jiho replies before hanging up.

-

His boots crunch against the gravel as he weaves through the cars parked haphazardly in the small lot. Broken bottles and cigarette butts litter the ground. Wrong side of the tracks, Jiho had told him with a grin the first time he brought him out here. Jaehyo makes it to the door of the building. The graffiti on the boarded up windows really adds character, he thinks as he knocks out a familiar rhythm against the metal.

It only takes a moment before Jihoon's opening the door for him, his face uncharacteristically irritated. "He's been bitching about you not being here," he complains as he steps back to let Jaehyo inside. Jaehyo simply shrugs, tossing Jihoon a flirty wink in place of a proper apology before venturing further into the smoky room.

He smirks to himself as he catches sight of Tempo over in the corner, tangled in a lip-lock with his boyfriend Jiyong. He passes by them without a word, knowing Jiyong will come to say hey later. Tempo’s in the second half of the show as well. He weaves around a large table of giggling girls, who are busy fawning over some of the newbies that he hasn’t bothered learning the names of and probably won’t, to be honest.

He gets to his usually table, plucking off the simple RESERVED sign and setting it off to the side. His prize is standing on the low stage with his back to him, immersed in conversation with Tablo, Jint, and Jay. Jaehyo licks his lips before letting out a sharp, piercing whistle. He smirks as he watches Jiho go completely rigid. He hates that sound, hates it with a fucking burning passion and Jaehyo knows it. He swings around, glowering as his gaze locks onto Jaehyo.

Heat spikes through Jaehyo's entire body and snatches the air from his lungs. God, he loves being pinned down by that stare. His cock throbs in his pants and he's completely shameless as he runs his hand over the outline of it, completely unfazed by the amount of people around, and bites his lip. Jiho’s eyes narrow and Jaehyo just laughs, blowing him a kiss as he finally takes his seat.

The group onstage finally slip behind the curtain after a few more minutes discussing whatever the fuck they were talking about. Jay grabs Jiho's wrist to lead him through the gap in the fabric. Jaehyo frowns. He doesn't like people touching his boyfriend. Especially not Jay.

"You don't look happy." The words drift by him on wisps of smoke. He turns, unsurprised to see Jiyong settling into the other chair at the table. 

Jaehyo scowls. "I'm not. Jay's touching my man." He reaches out for the joint Jiyong has between his slender fingers, glancing briefly at the other. "Why is your face all sparkly?"

Jiyong laughs as he passes the blunt, the fingers of his free hand running back through his blood red hair. "Just came over from Chaerin's birthday party," he says as if that explains everything (and it does). "We're heading back over as soon as the show's done. You and Nacseo should tag along."

Jaehyo sniggers, the sound laced with smoke. "Don't let him hear you call him that." 

"Hey, I'm allowed to call him that," Jiyong grins, "I was around when that little shit was first calling himself that. Tempo and I practically raised him since he came here.”

Nacseo had been Jiho's first stage name, back when first started at this club, a few years before he met Jaehyo. He had swapped over to using Zico when he finally got moved to the second half of the show. Something about rebirth and moving forward, possibly something about artistic license. Jaehyo doesn’t remember, he had been stoned out of his fucking mind.

“Nah, we’re probably just going to go back to our place once we’re done here,” Jaehyo tells him, taking one last hit before passing the joint back over. “Tell Chae we said happy birthday, though.”

Jiyong doesn’t get to respond again. The overhead lights go out, leaving the stage illuminated. Jaehyo grins as he leans forward as a rhythm he’s only half-heard muffled through walls blares through the speakers, the bass pumping through his entire body. Distantly, he hears some of the others in the building cheering, but he can’t focus on them. Not when Jiho’s on that stage, demanding everyone’s attention with just his very presence. No, not Jiho...

“Zee-ah-co,” Jaehyo breathes out as Jiho spits it into the mic.


End file.
